


The Price of Loyalty

by Obsessionist



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Canon Era, Friendship, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Magic Revealed, Post-Season/Series 01, Protective Arthur, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29746836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obsessionist/pseuds/Obsessionist
Summary: Uther activates a device that repels magic, but Merlin's loyalty to Arthur knows no bounds.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 164





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted on my fanfiction . net account under the name "Revhead" in 2017, and is being reposted here. Enjoy!

“This had better be everything you have promised, Merchant Fendrel.”

The man bowed low. “It shall be, your Majesty. You have already seen what it can do on a small scale; now your entire city will benefit from its use. You will not be disappointed.”

“We shall see,” Uther said. Despite his attempt to sound unconvinced, Gaius could tell that the King was feeling a great deal of anticipation and excitement over this. His smile had begun at the first demonstration, when the condemned woman had screamed as the crystal touched her skin, writhing and shrieking in agony until death finally claimed her. The smile was hidden now because the more pleased Uther appeared the higher price the merchant would surely ask. But Gaius knew it was there, and it made nausea roil in his gut.

King Uther reached out for the lever and Gaius braced himself, hoping desperately that Merlin would not choose this moment to return from the herb-picking task Gaius had set him.

Uther threw the lever and at first nothing happened. Then a low hum began to emit from the device, slowly building in pitch and volume until it was a painfully high whine that had all the inhabitants of the court covering their ears in an attempt to block it out. It passed into the realm of inaudibility, and abruptly stopped.

“Well?” Uther demanded, glaring at the merchant.

The man just smiled. “Patience, your majesty.”

Uther opened his mouth to reply – and a violent concussion shook the air.

Gaius staggered backwards, a hand flying to his forehead as a sharp stabbing pain shot through his skull. He forced himself to hide his reaction quickly, aware that besides Arthur’s faint wince no one else in the court had felt anything other than the movement of air. Uther knew of his past, of course, so even if someone had noticed Gaius doubted that he would be in any danger of arrest or execution. But it wasn’t his own safety Gaius was concerned about; it never was. He feared for Merlin.

“Your city is protected, my lord,” Fendrel announced. “That for which you have strived for many years has at last been achieved here this day.”

“I will be the judge of that,” Uther replied coolly. “Arthur, send out patrols. Search the city, and round up all of those who show signs of having been affected. If anyone attempts to flee, arrest them immediately.”

Arthur dipped his head in obeisance. “Yes, sire.” He left the throne room, his knights following him out.

Gaius swallowed, trying desperately not to panic. It was not working very well.

As soon as he was able to excuse himself without attracting undue attention or suspicion, Gaius hurried back to his chambers.

_Please let Merlin be there,_ he thought. _Or better yet, let him have been outside the city walls when it happened._

By the time he rounded the last corner Gaius was practically running, but the sight that greeted him stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Merlin…”

He dropped to his knees beside the fallen boy, trying to hold back his dismay and stay calm, professional. It was hard. Merlin was sprawled out awkwardly on the floor of the hallway, limbs askew and a basket of herbs, which had spilled its contents everywhere, lolling away from his limp hand. Blood trickled from his nose and his face was ghostly pale. Small mercy that he was still breathing.

He had clearly been knocked unconscious by the shockwave that had radiated through Camelot from the device, and the fact that Gaius had been expecting it didn’t make the situation any easier to bear.

“Oh, my boy…” Gaius exhaled sadly, wishing he had been able to warn Merlin what was going to happen. The pain would have hit him out of nowhere, taking him completely off guard. What Gaius had felt was bad enough, and he practiced magic only infrequently. Merlin was a warlock, though – born of magic, for magic, and his use of magic was as natural to him as breathing. The blast could easily have killed him and direct contact with any of the crystals for too long certainly would.

It wasn’t safe for Merlin here anymore, if it ever had been.

Gaius moved Merlin into the comparative privacy of his chambers and tended to him as best he could, though he knew of no potions or remedies that could counter the effects of the device. His own head ached mildly in the background, a constant reminder of what now stood proudly in the throne room, and what could befall him if he ever again attempted to use magic.

As he gently cleaned the graze on Merlin’s forehead, which must have been inflicted when he collapsed onto hard stone, Gaius heard a low moan. Merlin’s eyelids fluttered, and his fingers twitched.

_So strong,_ Gaius thought in wonder, _for one so young._

Merlin mumbled something incoherent.

“Merlin?” Gaius encouraged, absently stroking back his hair in a soothing gesture. The boy was like a son to him, and Gaius loved him as such, even if there was no true blood between them. “Time to wake up.”

“M… Arthur… own breakfast… once… wouldn’t kill…”

“For me?” Gaius coaxed.

Another moan, but Merlin cracked open an eye obediently – and winced at the light. “Ow.”

Gaius’s brow creased with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Merlin.”

“…wha’… happened…?” he groaned, lifting an uncoordinated hand to cradle his head.

“You were knocked unconscious,” Gaius said simply.

“Don’t… ‘member… anyone… was jus’… walking back… and then… hurt…”

“Do you think you can sit up?”

Gaius assumed the sound he made in response was intended as a ‘no’ but Gaius started to pull him into a sitting position anyway, and Merlin did his best to help. Once they had managed it Merlin closed his eyes and tried to bring his breathing back to normal.

“Ungh… feels like... been training with… Arthur… for five days straight… and then hit with that… fire blast… from Nimueh again… about twenty times…” He forced his eyes open and they skittered around the room for a moment before focusing on Gaius’s face. “What was it?”

“King Uther,” Gaius explained, “has turned on a device which repels magic.”

Merlin stared at him without comprehension, so Gaius went into greater detail. “A merchant arrived in Camelot this morning with a heavily laden cart, and requested to speak with the king. He claimed that Uther would be greatly interested in what he had found, and unfortunately he was right. Apparently this Fendrel character was exploring the crumbled ruins of an ancient city, and discovered a device that is both a weapon and a shield designed to defend a city… from magic.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in.

“How?” Merlin croaked.

Gaius handed him a cup of water. “The device actually consists of a few parts. There is the main hub, which now resides in Uther’s throne room at the heart of Camelot. There are five smaller ‘nodes’ as Fendrel called them, in the form of whole crystals set within tripod-like brackets, which have been set up at strategic points along the outer wall. When the device is activated, the nodes link to the hub and create a bubble around the city. Any purely magical creature on the outside is unable to pass through, and any person with magic struggles and weakens greatly if they attempt to enter.”

Merlin’s widened as the implications started to hit him, but Gaius hadn’t even told him the worst of it. “Anyone inside the city who has magic will have been struck a blow similar to what you felt at the moment the bubble was formed. Arthur and his guards have already been sent out to find all those who were affected. Even if a person manages to stay hidden, their strength will be sapped the longer they remain in the city, and if they get too close to the hub or the nodes they will experience dizziness and feel sick.”

“Gauis-”

“That is not all,” Gauis said darkly. “There are smaller crystals, of finger length and thickness that can be worn on a chain around the neck to provide personal protection for the wearer. Uther has one and… Arthur has the other.”

“Arthur,” Merlin echoed.

“For any person of magic, direct skin contact with a crystal causes extreme pain and will kill them if contact is maintained for too long. The Druid woman that Uther had locked in his dungeons… they tested the crystals on her, to see if the merchant was telling the truth. She took half an hour to die.”

Merlin closed his eyes, grieving for a woman he didn’t even know but sympathised with all too well.

The woman had been caught using magic to try to heal her child who had suffered a bad fall and cracked his skull. A mother could not have been expected to do nothing, even though she was in the bustling market of Camelot at the time. The guards had arrested her before she could finish her spell and the little boy had died. She had been sentenced to be burned at the stake tomorrow morning.

“I know,” Gaius said heavily, squeezing Merlin’s shoulder. “I know. But there was nothing we could have done to save her. Right now, we need to worry about saving _you._ ”

Merlin looked up at him, a hopeless expression in his eyes. “What can we do?” he asked. “Destroy the device?”

Gaius shook his head. “It is too well guarded and getting close would cripple you before you could do anything anyway. I am afraid that there is only one option. You must leave Camelot. Tonight. We’ll sneak you out through the underground passageways-”

“Gaius!” Merlin objected, horrified. “I can’t just leave! My duty, my _destiny,_ is here with Arthur!”

“My boy, to stay is suicide.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Merlin argued. “As long as I don’t touch any of the crystals-”

“Merlin, you don’t just have magic. You _are_ magic. The device knocked you unconscious when you were nowhere near it. If someone else had found you before I did, you would have been discovered for who you truly are and probably killed immediately. The longer you stay, the worse the symptoms will become. You won’t be able to hide what it is doing to you.”

“I’m a good liar,” Merlin stated stubbornly. “I’ve kept my secret this long; I don’t intend to be caught now.”  
  


“It is too dangerous.”

“It has _always_ been dangerous,” Merlin exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. “If I wanted to live a safe, risk-free life then coming to live in Camelot was about the stupidest decision I’ve ever made. But I have a purpose here, Gaius. I have to protect Arthur and help him become the sort of King who would never allow this device to continue being used. My presence here is more important than ever. Besides, if I leave, Uther will have won. I refuse to let that happen.”

Gaius admired his ward’s conviction, but he could not in good conscience let Merlin stay here. He had promised Hunith that he would look after the boy. “Merlin-”

“Merlin!” A guard burst into their chambers. “Arthur demands your presence immediately. He is in the courtyard.”

Merlin nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

The guard withdrew and Merlin made to get up off the infirmary bed. Gaius gave him The Eyebrow of disapproval, but the boy seemed to have grown rather immune to it in the time they had known each other.

“You are not well,” Gaius said sternly. “You need to rest.”

“If I don’t show up Arthur will be suspicious, which is the last thing we need right now,” Merlin pointed out.

As much as he wanted to, Gaius couldn’t argue with him on that one. He couldn’t help fretting though, when Merlin swayed unsteadily on his feet and pain lingered in his eyes from what had to be a terrible, persistent headache.

“I’ll be back later,” Merlin promised, offering a somewhat forced smile of reassurance and heading for the door.

“Merlin.”

He looked back.

“Be careful.”

ooOOoo


	2. Chapter 2

“Where have you been?” Arthur demanded as soon as he caught sight of Merlin and deemed him to be within shouting distance.

Merlin’s gaze was drawn to the crystal hanging around Arthur’s neck but he didn’t dare to show any hesitation, approaching the prince as though this were just another day.

“I was picking herbs for Gaius-” Merlin started to explain.

“What happened to your head?” Arthur interrupted.

Merlin fingered the bump gingerly. “I tripped over on the stairs.”

Arthur rolled his eyes; Merlin was well-known for his clumsiness so he accepted the lie without doubt or question.

“Well, now that you are finally here, more or less in one piece, I need you to start taking down the names of these people.” He gestured to a group of twenty or so people of mixed ages huddled together in the middle of the courtyard. Guards with drawn swords surrounded them.

“Who are they?” Merlin asked, not sure that he wanted to know the answer.

“Prisoners accused of conspiring to use witchcraft and sorcery,” Arthur replied. Merlin recognised his tone; it was serious and uncompromising, which meant he was very unlikely to listen to anything Merlin might have to say. But he couldn’t help himself.

“You’re arresting children now?”

Eyes, cold as ice, snapped to him. “My father has decreed that Camelot will be a kingdom free of the evil taint of magic, and now we have a means to see this happen in a way that is fair and just. The people of this city will no longer have to live in fear.”

“Funny,” Merlin said, though the situation was anything but, “because that little girl over there looks very afraid. So does that young woman. And that teenage boy. In fact, I would say that all of those poor people look terrified out of their wits. I can’t believe you would condemn innocent-”

“We have evidence,” Arthur interrupted sharply. “Each of these prisoners reacted to the activation of the Sentinel Device, which detects and repels magic.”

“How do you know?” Merlin persisted. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence that they fell ill at the same time the device was turned on. It doesn’t prove-”

“No. But this does.” Arthur lifted the crystal, bouncing it slightly in his palm. “A normal person can touch this and feel nothing, as I am now. But it causes pain to practitioners of magic, proving their guilt once and for all. Here, see for yourself.” Taking the chain from around his neck, Arthur tossed the crystal to Merlin.

Panic flared through him, every instinct screaming at him not to touch it, but he knew that refusing to do so would damn him as surely as revealing that it caused him pain.

He gritted his teeth and caught the crystal out of the air. A bolt of lightning shot through his arm, nearly ripping a scream from his throat. He quickly fumbled, letting the crystal drop through his fingers and grasping the chain instead before it could hit the ground.

“Be _careful_ , Merlin!” Arthur exclaimed, snatching it back off him. “Honestly, you are such a klutz sometimes!” He cuffed him on the back of the head for good measure and Merlin thought that his brain would explode from the pain.

Somehow, he managed a coherent-sounding “Yes, sire,” and quickly moved away to do as Arthur had instructed, beginning to scribe a list of the prisoners.

By the third name, Merlin knew he was lost.

It was bad enough to see them as a group of people who would lose their lives for something beyond their control, but to learn each individual name was killing him. Their hopeless eyes bore into his soul, their frightened expressions begged him to be their salvation. Each seemed to be a reminder that he was their kin and, by all rights, he too should be condemned to execution.

He knelt down beside a beautiful little girl with big brown eyes and she stared up at him with innocent confusion, as though she had no idea why she was here with all of these strangers instead of back home where she belonged. When he asked what her name was she answered, “Juliana, daughter of Fre-de-rick and Mi-mi-mira-belle!” beaming at him with obvious pride that she had remembered and managed to say it correctly. She tugged a smile from him, but then he thought what fate awaited her and it broke his heart.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t just sit back and watch this happen.

He stood slowly, drawing on his courage. Twenty-three. That was how many names were on his list. That was how many innocent lives depended on him. He forced himself to memorise each name and each face, burning them into his memory. If he failed to act, they would haunt him forever.

He hardened his resolved and turned to his prince. “Arthur-”

“Are you done, Merlin?”

There was a stern warning in Arthur’s gaze. Normally, despite his rank as a servant, Merlin was given a great deal of latitude when it came to speaking his mind. Most of the time Arthur seemed to appreciate his frank honesty and value his opinion. He usually listened to what Merlin had to say. Every so often, he even heeded his words.

But right now, Arthur’s expression told him in no uncertain terms that a single word more spoken in the defence of these people would land him a place in the adjoining prison cell.

Nothing if not stubborn, Merlin opened his mouth to speak out anyway.

_“Merlin,_ ” Arthur growled, his hand twitching toward the hilt of his sword. It was an unspoken threat. If Merlin pushed again, Arthur would draw the weapon on him. And he would mean it.

Merlin’s free hand balled into a fist. He would not sit by idly this time. He had witnessed too many innocent people be condemned and executed at Uther’s hand; his conscience would stand it no longer.

But he knew words would not be enough. In this, Arthur would be obedient to his King, and the opinion of a servant could not sway him.

Merlin would have to take action of a different kind.

“Yes, I’m done,” he answered flatly, handing over the list. The required “sire” was tacked on belatedly at the end, Merlin’s tone expressing a depth of disapproval and disappointment that could not be spoken aloud.

Arthur frowned, but did not press the matter, apparently satisfied that Merlin would stop trying to fight him.

How wrong he was.

ooOOoo

Merlin bided his time.

For the rest of the day he kept his head down and his nose out of trouble, obediently completing all the tasks that Arthur set for him. He made sure to throw in the occasional token complaint and participate in any banter that Arthur initiated, too, so the earlier incident and the tension between them would be forgotten.

Arthur certainly had no trouble acting as though it was business as usual. As though as twenty-three innocent people who had been leading normal lives up until yesterday were not shivering in the dungeons, awaiting a dawn execution. It might as well have been just another day in Camelot.

But the pounding in Merlin’s head was a constant, painful reminder that everything had changed. Even as he went about his normal routine, twenty-three names remained firmly implanted in the forefront of his mind.

In the spare moments he had between tasks, Merlin began quietly stockpiling supplies. When he retrieved Arthur’s lunch from the kitchens, he snuck out a few packs of patrol rations. When he fetched Arthur’s dinner, he picked up some extra loaves of freshly baked bread. When he was returning dishes, he took some apples and dried meat as well. When he washed Arthur’s laundry, a few of the older shirts slipped into a bag instead of the wash tub and some of the dry linen was misplaced en route back to Arthur’s chambers. When he was grooming Arthur’s horse, some of the saddle blankets vanished into the straw. When he was carting firewood up to Arthur’s room, a few choice pieces of kindling never made it into the fireplace, and when he was trying to light it, some of the stone flints went missing. When he was in the documents room getting some paperwork for an upcoming council meeting, he acquired a map of the outlying areas surrounding the city. When he took Arthur’s chainmail to the blacksmiths, he left with a few small daggers hidden in his boots and belt. A number of other small items were collected during the day, all taken from places where they were unlikely to be missed for a few days at least.

As the sun slipped toward the horizon, Merlin ducked quickly into the burial vaults to check on his stash. It was not much, especially when it had to be shared among so many, but hopefully it would give them the start they needed and last until they could find supplies of their own.

He helped Arthur change into his bedclothes, got him settled into bed and returned to Gaius’ chambers to share a late supper with him. Gaius gave him a few odd looks, but Merlin did his best to keep an innocent expression on his face, knowing that his guardian would disapprove of his plan.

Only when most of Camelot was sleeping and the night’s darkness was complete did Merlin sneak out of his room and make his way down to the dungeons.

Tonight, there were six guards. Too many for a distraction to be effective, and a temporary diversion would not give him the time he needed anyway.

He took in a deep, steadying breath, and drew on his magic.

“ _Swefe nu_!”

The power shot from his body on command, but at the same instant there was a stunning explosion of pain behind his eyes. Merlin cried out, the shock slamming him to his knees. When the pain didn’t recede he curled in on himself, desperately clutching his head in an attempt to hold his skull together as an invisible blacksmith’s hammer seemed intent on bludgeoning it into a thousand pieces. It was not long before he lost all thought and coherence, his identity shattering, his own magic ripping him to shreds. For an eternity he was helpless, stranded in a wasteland of agony.

But eventually the pain relented and consciousness returned.

Merlin found himself sprawled on the cold stone floor. His vision swam, every muscle ached and his head gave a sickening throb in time with every heartbeat. For what felt like an age he could do nothing but lie there, his body traumatised and unresponsive. But his memory slowly returned, and he remembered twenty-three names, remembered his purpose, remembered that time was running out.

Despite the trembling in his limbs, Merlin pushed himself to his feet and stumbled down the stairs. Thankfully, his spell had managed to knock out the guards, but he did not know how much longer the effects would last. He had to finish this now and, somehow, he had to do it using as little magic as possible.

Twenty-three people were crammed into two cells. The exhaustion of prolonged terror had sent most of them into a troubled sleep, but one young man was still awake and he watched Merlin approach with wary eyes. Merlin knew his name from that morning in the courtyard, but looking at him now he thought he recognised him as one of the more recent additions to the knights of Camelot.

“Sir Branor?” he whispered.

The man gave a tight nod and a part of Merlin despaired; even a knight, trained by Arthur personally, was not safe from Camelot’s prejudice against magic. What hope was there for a servant?

“I am getting you out of here,” Merlin explained in a hushed voice. Branor’s eyes widened. “All of you. Start waking everyone up, and keep them _quiet._ ”

“But-”

“That’s an order,” Merlin snapped, borrowing the tone of authority he had heard Arthur use on numerous occasions. The man was young and impressionable; he scrambled up to do as Merlin said.

Merlin moved onto the next cell, waking an older woman who had been curled up close to the bars. “Laudine, isn’t it?” She had been one of the vendors in the marketplace. “Get everyone up, quickly. We’re leaving.”

As the prisoners were being roused one by one, Merlin went to check on the guards and retrieve the keys. When he returned, twenty-three pairs of eyes bearing a mixture of confusion, fear and hope stared out at him.

“You have committed no crime,” Merlin told them. “But if you stay here, when the sun rises you will be put to death.”

A shiver ran through the group.

“I don’t intend to let that happen.”  
  


“What are you going to do about it?” a man at the back challenged, arms folded. “You’re just a servant, aren’t you?”

“And you, Lludd, are just a cooper. But there is more to us, any of us, than meets the eye.” Merlin leaned closer. “We have magic.”

There was an outcry of denials at this; Merlin raised a hand to silence them. “Whether you were aware of it or not, whether you used it or not, each of you have been proven to possess magic. You might as well accept that as truth right now; for the rest of your lives will be determined by it.”

“All four hours’ worth,” Lludd muttered.

“I _am_ going to get you out of here,” Merlin assured them. “But I need you all to trust me and do exactly what I say. Do you understand?”

There were a few scattered nods.

Merlin glared at them. “ _Do you understand_?”

A couple of them jumped, and the response was nearly unanimous. “Yes, sir!”

“Good. I will get you beyond the city walls. Beyond that point, Laudine and Sir Branor will be your leaders. You are to head directly to the border and cross over into Lot’s kingdom. You will be able to seek refuge with the Druids in the Forest of Eldin.”

“Druids?” Lludd protested.

“Like it or not, you are outlaws now. The Druids are the only people in the Five Kingdoms who are wholly accepting of those with magic. If you go to them, they will be able to protect you and perhaps even teach you about your gifts. At this point in time, you have no other choice.”

“But Camelot is our home,” a young woman, Yvette, said tearfully.

“And maybe someday it will be again. But right now you have to go.”

Laudine drew a slow breath. “Okay. We will do as you say.” The others nodded.

“Good.” Merlin unlocked the cells, dropping his voice once more to a whisper. “Not a sound from any of you,” he warned.

They huddled together in a tight group and shuffled forward. “Sir Branor, take the rear,” Merlin ordered, pressing the hilt of a dagger into the young knight’s hand. “If you see or hear anything, let me know immediately. And make sure there are no stragglers.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s go.”

Merlin led them past the fallen guards.

“How did you-?” Lludd began.

“Magic,” Merlin hissed. “Now shut up, or I will shut you up.”

Apparently the fact that he had been able to take down six men on his own was enough to gain him some respect, because no one offered up another word of question or protest.

Merlin was tense, all his senses straining to catch even the faintest hint of trouble as they made their way up the stairs and started down a corridor.

Having a detailed knowledge of the stations of the guards helped; Merlin halted the patrol, ducked around a corner and caught the pair of soldiers from behind with a quick “ _Wáce ierlic!”_  
  


His vision flashed white, but he choked down the yelp of pain and forced himself to keep going. “Come on.”

They wound through the stone hallways, Merlin swiftly taking down each guard they came across. His head pounded and his stomach jolted with nausea in tempo with his every step, but there was no time to even pause for breath, let alone to cave into his body’s demands and collapse in a heap.

It was a tremendous relief when they reached the burial vaults.

“Divide this lot among you,” Merlin said, gesturing to the supplies. “And be quick about it.”

He was expecting a snide comment from Lludd about the limited quantity, but the man simply shouldered two ration packs and tucked a saddle blanket under his arm. The rest was distributed in short order.

“This tunnel will lead us out past the city walls,” Merlin told them.

“ _Merlin,_ ” Sir Branor said urgently.

“I hear it,” Merlin said tightly. The loud clamour of the warning bells had started, putting all of Camelot on high alert. Either the guards had woken or the escape of the prisoners had been discovered. Regardless, they did not have much time left. “ _Hurry_.”

No one had to be told twice; they picked up the pace, moving as swiftly and quietly as they could.

_“Merlin,”_ came Sir Branor’s voice again.

“I know.” The light from torch fires had appeared at the end of the tunnel and they could hear booted feet and jangling armour. The trail of unconscious guards must have led the soldiers straight to them. “No point being quiet now. Everyone, _run!_ ”

The group of terrified prisoners broke into a sprint, some of the adults sweeping a child into their arms so they would not fall behind.

Within metres of reaching the grate, Merlin slammed into an invisible barrier. Pain crashed over him, wrenching a cry from his lips and sending him momentarily blind.

It was the shield around the city, designed to bar passage to those with magic.

The soldiers were closing in on them.

Merlin gritted his teeth. “Alright folks, this is going to hurt. But your freedom is on the other side; only death waits for you here. You have to push through it.”

“What about the grate? There’s no key hole – does it even open?”

Merlin remembered that last time it had taken a horse and grappling hook to bust the grate open from the other side. Unfortunately, they had neither, and the grate had clearly been reinforced since Mordred’s escape.

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach as he realised he would have to use magic.

“Stand back,” he ordered quietly, stretching out his palms. “As soon as it is open make a break for it. Remember, listen to Laudine and Sir Branor. Stick together, look after each other. Find the Druids.”

“What about you?” Yvette asked.

Good question. “Don’t worry about me.”

“But you have magic, too,” Laudine said. “More powerful magic than any of us. Surely it is too dangerous for you to remain here.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“But you don’t belong here. So why not come with us?”

Merlin straightened. “Because I have a duty to Camelot, and to Arthur.”

“If they find out the truth about your magic, they will execute you.”

“That’s a risk I have to take.” The soldiers were drawing closer with every moment that passed. “There’s no time to argue about this; you need to go _now._ ”

Merlin braced himself, then took a deliberate step forward into the full force of the shield.

Knives slashed through him. He bent double, almost crippled by the pulses of agony, but he could feel the weight of twenty-three gazes on his back and forced himself to concentrate.

“ _Tóspringe_!”

Nothing.

“ _Tóspringe_!”

The grate shuddered, but did not give.

He was frantic; if he did not get this grate open they were all dead. But he was tired, so tired, and it _hurt._

He felt a little hand tugging at his shirt. It was Juliana, staring up at him with big brown eyes. “Merlin, I’m scared,” she said, lower lip trembling.

He couldn’t let her down. He refused to let her down.

Merlin mustered every ounce of his strength. “ _TÓSPRINGE_!” he yelled.

The grate exploded.

Merlin _screamed_.

And he knew no more.

ooOOoo


	3. Chapter 3

In all honesty, Merlin had not expected to ever wake again. Or, at least, if he did, he thought it would be to the smell of smoke and the feeling of flames licking at his skin as he burned on a pyre for his sorcery.

So it was somewhat disorienting to wake up alone in an unfamiliar room that smelled very strongly of alcohol. Even more surprising was the fact that he was relatively unharmed, save for a raging headache and a bone-deep ache in every inch of his body.

As far as he knew, the soldiers should have found him unconscious at the grate. He should have been caught red-handed at the scene of the crime and arrested for treason immediately. He should be on the chopping block, or at least imprisoned awaiting his execution.

But instead, he was here. Wherever ‘here’ was.

It took him a few tries, and he nearly passed out more than once, but eventually Merlin was able to get to his feet and stagger over to the door. When he cracked it open, he discovered to his great bewilderment that he was in a tavern.

There was a moment where Merlin seriously questioned his sanity, wondering if he had somehow drunk himself into a hallucinogenic stupor and imagined the entire rescue operation. Light was filtering through the windows and panic flared within him as he realised that dawn had come and gone; all twenty-three people could have been executed by now. He had failed to save them after all-

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Merlin spun and regretted the sudden movement when his vision blacked out for a few seconds. A hand took his arm in a gentle but firm grip, guiding him over to a chair. “Sit down before you faint,” a woman’s voice chided.

He blinked a few times and the world swam into focus.

A homely woman in an apron stood before him. He didn’t recognise her.

“I-I’m sorry, who-?”

“Name’s Lunete,” she said, sticking out a hand for him to shake.

Merlin took it hesitantly, still feeling very confused. “I don’t think we’ve met…?”

“No, we haven’t. But I believe you know my husband, Lludd.”

The name took a few seconds to process, and then Merlin’s eyes widened.

“As in-”

“-the innocent man condemned for magic whose life you saved last night. Among others.”

He was greatly relieved to learn that he had not imagined the whole thing. But in light of his expectation that he should have wound up dead or captured, Merlin was even more confused to be sitting in a tavern talking to the wife of one of the prisoners. “What-? How-?”

“As I understand it, you broke the lot of them out of the dungeons, single-handedly took out the guards along your path, led them through a tunnel to the edge of the city and practically killed yourself blowing a hole in the grate to let them escape.”

“Right…” That was about as much as he remembered, as well. “So how…?”

“Well you told them to leave you behind, but they knew what that would mean and none of them wanted to abandon you to the very fate you had saved them from. But apparently you didn’t want to go with them. So my husband,” her chest puffed out a bit with pride, “passed his supplies to someone else, picked you up, and legged it back over the wall with you in tow before the soldiers got there.”

Merlin gaped.

“He snuck you back here. Scared the living daylights out of me when he woke me up, let me tell you, but I was so glad to see him. He told me everything, said I should take good care of you and made his own way out of the city before the sun came up.”

Merlin was at a loss for words; even more so when the woman suddenly wrapped him in a tight hug. When she released him, there were tears in her eyes.

“You saved my husband. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Um… you’re welcome,” he stammered, not accustomed to receiving gratitude for the things he did. Most of the time he was saving Arthur and if Arthur found out about it he was more likely to kill him than thank him. “I’m sorry that any of this ever happened.”

She waved him off. “It’s Uther that is to blame, not you. I’ve had enough of that tyrant. I’m waiting a few days for things to cool down and then I’m leaving to join my husband.”

Merlin smiled a little. “I’m glad you’ll be together.”

“Me too. Magic or no magic, I love that man. Besides, if someone as brave and selfless as you can have magic, I reckon magic can’t be evil after all.”

Merlin’s heart warmed at her words. “Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

She squeezed his shoulder, a wordless support. “Now, young man, what do you say to a little headache cure? I’m seen my share of horrible hangovers, and I can recognise the ghost of pain in your eyes. I’ve got something that should do the trick.”

Merlin smiled gratefully. “Yes, please.”

She bustled around behind the bar for a few moments before handing him a mug.

“Looks and smells horrible, and tastes even worse,” she warned him cheerfully. “But it’ll have you feeling better in no time. Bottoms up.”

Just as Merlin began to tilt the liquid into his mouth, the door to the tavern slammed open. He winced at the bright light and the noise, almost dropping the mug.

“We’re not open,” Lunete said crossly.

“ _There_ you are, Merlin!” Arthur snapped, storming in. “I have searched half of Camelot for you - where the hell have you been?”

“Uh-”

“Do you have any idea what has been happening? The sorcerers we arrested yesterday _escaped_ last night, and you were nowhere to be found – what is your explanation, then? And it had better be good!”

“Um-”

“He’s been in here since sundown yesterday,” Lunete answered promptly. “Got drunk off his head and passed out. Only woke up a few minutes ago and he’s feeling as sick as a dog.”

Merlin’s stomach chose that moment to agree with her; a wave of nausea swept over him, causing him to groan and double over. He nearly fell off the chair.

Arthur caught him, his expression torn somewhere between relief, exasperation and amusement. “That’s what you get when you spend all night drinking, _Mer_ lin, you idiot.”

“Won’t – do it again,” Merlin mumbled, grasping at the mug. Arthur helped him tilt it, holding the mug steady until Merlin had drained all of the liquid.

“See that you don’t,” Arthur said. “I can’t have my manservant spending all his time in taverns when he has work to do.”

The headache began to recede, allowing Merlin to breathe a little easier. “Yes, sire.”

“Come on, then, up we get.” Arthur hoisted him off the chair and dragged him out of the tavern. Merlin glanced back, flashing Lunete a quick smile of gratitude. She nodded, the same sentiment shining in her eyes.

They walked in silence for a few minutes (well, Arthur walked and Merlin stumbled along) before Arthur sighed, slowing and turning to look at him. “This was about the girl, wasn’t it?”

“What?”

“The little girl, yesterday. The one we arrested.”

“Juliana,” Merlin supplied.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. “Yes. Her. You were upset.”

“She was three years old,” Merlin said, perhaps more sharply than he should have.

“When the Sentinel Device was activated she blacked out. That indicates strong magic.”

“Magic that she was no doubt born with. It’s not like she chose it, Arthur. And do you really believe she was capable of using it to hurt someone or to bring down the kingdom?”

“She was dangerous.”

“She was a _child_!” Merlin exclaimed. “She had done _nothing_ wrong. In fact, _none_ of those people had done _anything_! What kind of kingdom would sentence people to death for being born a certain way? Where is the justice in that? Uther might as well condemn people for having brown eyes or black hair!”

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur growled.

“No, Arthur, you need to hear this! You are going to be king someday and you need to ask yourself if you are going to be the sort of man who is so blinded by hate and prejudice that you would slaughter innocent children, or if you are going to be a king who is just and fair, who will _defend_ innocents. I know which I would prefer. I know which Camelot deserves. But at the rate you’re going, I don’t know which you will become.”

“Merlin, you are being dangerously insubordinate. Do not forget your place. You are nothing but a servant, and I could have you locked in the stockade for what you just said.”

“Then do it, because I don’t regret a single word and I would say it again if I thought it could get through to you.” Merlin didn’t know where his sudden boldness was coming from, but he thought of Juliana, and he thought about how she was a little girl who might never see her parents again. He thought of the families that had been torn apart, of all the innocent lives that had been lost. He thought of his destiny and he realised that staying silent forever had never been an option.

“I dream of a brighter future for Camelot,” Merlin said quietly. “And I have always believed that you would be the one to make it happen. There is a great man of honour and integrity inside of you, Arthur. But he would never have arrested twenty-three innocent people who had only the potential for magic, nor would he condemn them to death when they had committed no crime. He is better than that. _You_ are better than that.”

Arthur stared at him for a long moment, the anger slowly fading from his eyes.  
  


“I don’t agree with everything my father says and does,” he said at last.

“I know.”

“And I think… I think I’m glad that the prisoners escaped.” He said it softly, almost like it was a shameful confession, but Merlin had never been more proud of him.

“Me too. They didn’t deserve to die.”

“No,” Arthur agreed. “No, they didn’t.”

It was a small shift, but to Merlin it felt like a victory.

“I suppose, in a way, this is better for them,” Arthur mused as they continued walking again. “The Sentinel device would have slowly killed them if they stayed. That would be a horrible way to go.”

Merlin swallowed, silently.

His head throbbed.

ooOOoo


	4. Chapter 4

Guinevere was frightened.

She had been Lady Morgana’s handmaiden for years, so she was well accustomed to the nightmares that frequently disrupted Morgana’s sleep. She had seen for herself how distressing the night visions could be, and it had fallen to her on many occasions to be the one to comfort and calm Morgana when she woke up screaming or crying.

But Gwen had never known the nightmares to cause physical harm before.

Morgana was curled up on top of her blankets, one arm wrapped tightly around her stomach and the other hand clutching her head. Her face was ghostly pale, caught in a grimace of pain and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Every few seconds a jolt or tremor would run through her body and with each a dreadful moan escaped her lips.

Somehow, the nightmare was hurting her.

Guinevere feared she knew why.

Yesterday morning, out of nowhere, Morgana had fainted. Guinevere had been busy tending to her, so it wasn’t until later that she heard the news about the Sentinel device. Unfortunately, it was not difficult to put the pieces together. The device repelled magic. Morgana had fainted when it was activated. Her nightmares gave her uncanny glimpses of the future, and now they were hurting her.

There was only one conclusion she could draw. The truth did not bother Guinevere as much as she thought it should, but she was wary of the consequences.

Guinevere didn’t dare voice her suspicions out loud and she would not breathe a word about Morgana’s ill-timed collapse as long as she lived. But she worried that she was only delaying the inevitable.

“Morgana, you need to wake up.” Gwen shook her shoulder gently to rouse her.

She groaned, shifting to try to bury her head under her pillow.

“You’re supposed to dine with the King for the midday meal,” Gwen persisted, moving to open the curtains. Bright sunlight beamed into the room and slanted across Morgana’s face, causing her to wince.

“…don’t feel well,” she mumbled.

“I know. But you cannot stay in bed today.” If Morgana was absent from lunch it would draw King Uther’s attention, and that was the last thing they needed. “We’ll take you to Gaius. He may have a potion that will help.”

Morgana reluctantly allowed Gwen to help her out of bed and went through the motions of getting dressed with a haze of pain misting her eyes.

It was with no small amount of trepidation that Gwen led a woozy Morgana out into the halls of the castle, feeling a pang of anxiety every time they passed by someone who might see that Morgana was ill and work out why. But thankfully, most people were not inclined to look on the King’s ward with suspicion and they made it to the physician’s chambers unhindered.

“…of all the foolish things you have ever done, Merlin, this is by far the most reckless! Do you realise what could have happened?”

“…had to, Gaius…”

“…sometimes, Merlin… need to worry less about other people and more about yourself… one of these days you are going to-”

Morgana swayed on her feet and Gwen quickly knocked. The voices fell silent at once. “Come in.”

She coaxed Morgana into the room. “Sorry, we don’t mean to intrude…”

If anything, Merlin looked relieved by the interruption, though his expression turned to one of concern when he saw the state Morgana was in.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you in need of another sleeping potion, my lady?” Gaius asked.

“Something stronger, if you would,” Morgana said weakly. Her hand fluttered to her forehead. “I have the most terrible headache…”

Gaius’ eyebrows rose.

“It’s just stress, isn’t it, Morgana?” Gwen added quickly.

Morgana frowned a little, too dazed to confirm the cover story or perhaps to even understand why it was necessary.

“Hm,” Gaius said. He did not look convinced, but nor did he press the matter. “Let’s have a look, shall we?” Gaius examined her gently while Gwen hovered over his shoulder. “No tension in your neck and back muscles, and no bumps or contusions on your scalp that I can find,” he reported. “Have there been any recent changes to your diet? Any new scents introduced to your room or clothes?”

Gwen shook her head.

“Have you been drinking enough water?”

“I… think so,” Morgana said.

“Hm.” He passed her a cup of water anyway. “When did the symptoms start?”

“Only an hour ago,” Gwen tried to answer, but Morgana had already told the truth: “Early yesterday.”

In the long silence that followed, Gwen held her breath.

Gaius sighed heavily. “It is as I feared.”

Merlin’s eyes were wide, flicking between Morgana and his guardian, obviously making the connection as easily as Gwen had.

“What will you do?” Gwen whispered.

The physician’s expression was grave. “The only thing I can do.” For a terrifying moment, Gwen thought he was going to say that he had no choice but to turn Morgana in to Uther. “Unfortunately, I cannot address the root cause. But I will do my best to treat the symptoms.”

Relieved, Gwen let herself relax a little. She never should have doubted him. “Thank you, Gaius.”

He picked up a ready-made vial from his bench; there were a dozen identical vials, and Gwen wondered how he had known to be prepared. She almost asked, but thought better of it.

“This potion should help relieve some of the pain,” he said. “Come and get more from me as often as you need it.”

Morgana swallowed the liquid in a single gulp and after a minute or so her gaze cleared. “Thank you,” she exhaled.

“Now listen to me, my lady, because this is very important. You must not allow anyone outside of this room to learn of your… illness. No matter what level of discomfort you feel, you must not let it show on your face. I would normally prescribe plenty of rest, but too long spend in bed will be all too telling. If this comes to light, your life will be in very real danger.”

“But, this isn’t… It’s not… It doesn’t have anything to do with the Sentinel device,” Morgana protested, looking as though she desperately wanted to believe it.

“Even if it doesn’t, an illness at this time would look deeply suspicious,” Gaius said grimly. “You must be careful.”

Morgana slowly nodded.

“Take care of her, Guinevere,” Gaius said.

“I will.”

ooOOoo

Days passed. Merlin tried to pretend that everything was normal and went about his duties like there was nothing wrong.

But he hadn’t realised how much he depended on his magic.

Merlin was scrawny; always had been. As a servant, he spent so much of his time lugging heavy armour, carrying laden washing baskets, carting buckets of bathwater and helping Arthur with weapons training, that logic dictated he should have developed some significant muscle tone by now. But his magic had always been there, humming under his skin, lending him the strength he needed. Without it, every burden seemed to weigh five times more than it used to. Especially since he could no longer cheat a bit with magic to complete his tasks, he was slowing down and tiring quickly.

Merlin used to be able to function on a few hours of sleep and one or two small meals a day; sometimes less than that. He had a demanding schedule and had to balance three separate jobs, but he usually managed quite well. His magic kept him awake and alert, compensating for the limited quantities of rest and nutrition. But now every morning began as a battle to drag himself out of bed and every evening ended with him collapsing in utter exhaustion. Gaius made sure to feed him every couple of hours and reduced the number of jobs he gave him, but Merlin still struggled.

Then there was the pain. He had to adjust to having a constant ache lingering in the back of his head, and there were times when it was considerably worse. He could barely keep himself upright when he was in the throne room with the central hub and standing too close to Arthur when he was wearing the crystal pendant made his stomach lurch. The few times he forgot and instinctively drew on his magic, the agony he suffered was so severe that he soon developed an aversion to the very thought of using his power.

Merlin was becoming a shell of his former self and there was nothing he could do about it.

ooOOoo

Pain stabbed through his skull, jolting Merlin from his sleep.

He lay awake, panting, wondering if he had tried to perform magic when he was unconscious.

Then the call came again. _“Mer…lin…”_

It was feeble and faint, but he recognised the source.

“ _Mer…mer…lin…”_

_I’m coming,_ he projected back, and immediately had to choke down a scream.

His attempt to stand resulted in him tumbling from the bed and hitting the floor hard. He crawled to the pile of crumpled garments he had discarded earlier, managing to pull on a pair of pants after three tries. Shoes were too much of an effort, so he left them.

Eventually, he was able to pull himself to his feet, though his legs trembled beneath him.

He was tired. Why did the dragon have to call him at this time of night?

Grumpily and groggily, Merlin made his way through the castle and down into the cave.

The dragon was waiting for him on the rock outcropping. Rather than perching as he normally did, he was draped over it and barely seemed able to lift his head. The scales that usually shined reflected the light of Merlin’s torch back dully. A sickly grey smoke unfurled from his nostrils with every shallow breath. The gold of his eyes had dimmed.

“You look as good as I feel,” Merlin observed. He leaned against the wall and a few moments later found that he had slid to the ground without realising.

“Young warlock,” the dragon wheezed. “What has… transpired above?”

Merlin explained about the Sentinel device. He realised that the dragon was a creature of magic and felt guilty for not checking on him earlier.

“I have heard of this,” the dragon said slowly. “Long, long ago. In the… time of the old religion. It was…. The device was named Ábædan, because it was designed to restrain… repel, ward off, take a toll on… to force out… those with magic. This is… bad, young warlock.”

“Yes, I know. It is weakening me.” Merlin spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “I don’t know how I can fulfil my destiny like this.”

“Not only bad… for you.”

Merlin was sombre, thinking of Morgana’s struggle to maintain a strong façade even as the device took its toll on her, and looking at the mighty dragon brought low before him. “Are you dying?”

“We all will… if the device is not destroyed.”

“All those with magic?”

“No,” the dragon rasped. “All of Camelot.”

Merlin frowned. “But-”

“Magic is woven into the very fabric of life itself… young warlock. Every living thing… bears a trace of magic, even if… even if it never manifests into a power they can harness and…use.”

“But only those who can use magic have been affected.”

“So far… But within a few months of its creation, Ábædan had drained every ounce of life from a city that had bustled and thrived. There were no survivors. Now… it is naught but a barren wasteland…and crumbled ruins.”

The merchant Fendrel must have found it there. He had neglected to mention the history of the device to King Uther when he was selling it to him.

“If the device remains… Camelot is doomed,” the dragon rumbled.

“But what can I do?” Merlin asked helplessly. “Even the tiniest spell causes pain I can hardly bear. Anything stronger would probably kill me.”

“If you do not act… you will surely die. As will every person and creature in Camelot.”

His destiny had never weighed so heavily upon his shoulders, and never had Merlin felt so powerless.

“But I don’t know what to do,” he confessed. “Tell me what to do.”

“I am afraid… young warlock… that this time… I do not know.”

ooOOoo


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin stumbled over his own feet and would have flattened his nose against the unforgiving stone floor if Arthur had not caught him. Again.

“Honestly, Merlin, what is the matter with you?”

“Clumsy,” Merlin gasped.

“There’s clumsy, and then there is a walking _disaster_ ,” Arthur said. “This is the seventh time today you have nearly face-planted.”

“I’m tired.”

“You slept in!” Arthur exclaimed. “And you’ve been standing off to the side at a knighting ceremony for most of the morning; that is hardly arduous work.”

The ceremony had been in the throne room and black spots had crowded Merlin’s vision for most of the event as he struggled with every breath to remain conscious.

“Sorry, sire. I’ll try to do better.”

But he couldn’t help it. Moments after they had they resumed walking, Merlin tripped once more.

Arthur gripped his shoulders to steady him and looked him full in the face with a rare concern showing in his eyes. “Merlin, are you alright?”

“Yes, sire,” he answered quickly. But there was a scant eight inches between his chest and the crystal that Arthur wore and it was all Merlin could do to keep his breakfast down.

“Well you don’t look alright,” Arthur said. “In fact, you have been looking off colour for days.”

He tried to pull away from Arthur’s grasp. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You are clearly ill; I am surprised Gaius even let you come to work today. Go back to bed, Merlin.”

Merlin could only stare at him blankly.

“I’m giving you the rest of the day off,” Arthur explained in a slow, deliberate voice.

“But-”

“Merlin, I do not want to see you again until tomorrow morning. Go.” Arthur gave him a little push.

He could have cried with relief as the gap widened between him and the crystal. He could not find it within himself to argue against Arthur’s order any longer. His head hurt worse than ever and every fibre of his being demanded that he get some rest.

The way back to his chambers was an indistinct blur of shapes and sounds; he was conscious only of the effort of putting one foot in front of the other.

Merlin was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

ooOOoo

Merlin did not know how he was able to continue functioning. He stumbled wearily through each day of his existence, surviving from moment to moment.

He was not the only one anymore, though. The dragon had been right. The effects were spreading.

More and more of the townsfolk were turning up on Gaius’ doorstep asking for headache remedies. People were falling ill everywhere. Some of the livestock had died. Grass did not grow. Market produce was spoiling rapidly.

Camelot was falling to pieces and the people had begun to notice.

“This is your doing, Uther Pendragon!” a woman shrieked from the courtyard. In her arms was a stillborn baby. “You _murdered_ my child!” Guards swiftly dragged her away, but she continued to scream. “By forsaking the Old Religion you have brought a curse upon Camelot! We are all going to die! You have killed us!”

The death toll among infants and the elderly was climbing.

Gaius approached the king with the story of the ancient city that had been destroyed by the Sentinel device, but Uther would not hear it. “My kingdom will be free from magic!” he declared. “This is a cleansing!”

Morgana’s condition worsened to the point that she could no longer get out of bed. It never occurred to Uther to suspect that she herself had magic, but her sickness brought madness upon him. He was adamant that an evil sorcerer must have cast a spell on his beloved ward and began ordering the arrest of every person that presented with even the smallest symptom.

As the dungeons filled to bursting, the unrest that had begun to grow among the populace suddenly flamed to outright rebellion. The city was on the verge of tearing itself apart. Arthur and his knights did everything they could to maintain order, but anger and malice were swiftly replacing the love and respect that the people had once felt for their prince.

When a twelve-year-old girl threw a sharp farming implement at Arthur as he walked down the street one day, forcing Merlin to deflect it with an agonising twist of magic, he realised how truly volatile the situation had become. The child was arrested, igniting an outraged reaction from the townsfolk that a squadron of soldiers only barely managed to control.

Camelot had reached boiling point.

That night, Merlin accompanied Arthur on his patrol. A strict curfew was being enforced, so the city should have been quiet.

But Merlin felt a deep sense of foreboding and he had learned through repeated experience how unwise it was to ignore his instincts.

He rode alongside Arthur and Sir Leon, determined that he would not fall from his saddle.

He strained to keep alert, looking and listening for any sign of trouble.

But even so, when trouble came, it came out of nowhere.

One moment, there was complete silence. In the next instant, Merlin was nearly deafened by the roar of a battle cry.

Two dozen figures materialised from the darkness. Within seconds they were surrounded by a violent mob of men and women wielding pokers, pots, hammers, pitchforks, axes and rusted swords. They clearly had no combat experience, but they were enraged and they had the advantage of numbers on their side.

Merlin was dragged down from his saddle first; barely able to put up a fight. Sir Leon was the next to succumb; taken down when a woman with a hot poker made his horse rear and seized from behind by five others who flung him to the ground. Arthur fought valiantly, but he did not want to hurt his own people and his mercy was his downfall.

As soon as he was on the floor they were all over him.

“For my daughter!”

“For my father!”

“Break the curse!”

“End the Pendragons!”

“Defend Camelot!”

“End this plague!”

“Save us all!”

“Justice for the innocent!”

“Power to the people!”

They kicked and spat and beat down on him with every makeshift weapon they had.

If they kept it up, they could very well kill him.

But they had not counted on Emrys; the one called by destiny to be Arthur’s great defender.

Merlin was seen as a simple servant and he had been swiftly forgotten in the mad lust for royal blood.

He lay off to the side, stunned, too winded and too exhausted to move.

Until he heard Arthur’s first cry of pain.

Strength he shouldn’t have had drove him to his feet. Rage and magic thundered through him.

Before anyone was even aware of his presence, Merlin flung out his hands.

There was no need for complex spells or enchantments.

Merlin _was_ magic and it would obey his every command.

A terrible voice that bespoke a dread power boomed though the night. “ _THIS ENDS NOW_.”

There was a single burst of explosive force.

The attackers were all blasted backwards. They slammed into fences, posts, houses and cobblestones. Each was knocked insentient on impact.

Silence fell over the street. Not one of the attackers stirred.

Merlin surveyed the carnage, ensuring that the threat had been eradicated.

And then his gaze fell on Arthur.

Blue eyes stared back at him in absolute shock.

Merlin experienced a strange moment of serenity as he realised his secret had been revealed at last.

Then the pain struck, and his world imploded.

ooOOoo


	6. Chapter 6

“…sire? Sire? What happened? Are you alright? Prince Arthur!”

Arthur blinked, and the world rushed back in around him. With an effort, he pulled his gaze away from the unconscious form of his manservant to look over at his chief knight.

“I’m fine, Leon,” he said.

Leon frowned. “But, sire, you must have sustained injuries in the attack. The last I saw before they knocked me out was that they had you surrounded.”

“Yes, they did.” They had managed to wrench his sword from his grip and pin him to the ground through sheer weight of numbers. All he had been able to do was curl into a position that would protect the most vulnerable parts of his body and brace himself as the beating started.

The blows had been heavy, brutal and bruising. They came hard and fast, inflicted with the clear intent to kill. It seemed they would never end. Arthur had bitten his tongue when he felt the bone in his arm snap, but when a hammer slammed into his skull he had not been able to contain his cry. In that moment, Arthur had been sure that he was going to die.

Yet here he stood.

“…but I’m fine,” he repeated. It was _impossible_ , but Arthur could not feel so much as a single ache, bump or bruise. His arm was fine. His head was fine. He was whole and unbroken, when he should have been dead.

He _would_ have been dead, if the unimaginable, the unthinkable had not happened.

Sir Leon looked around at the scattered bodies of the defeated mob. “Did you do this, sire?” He sounded awed.

Arthur didn’t answer. He would not claim credit for something he had not done, but he couldn’t very well tell the truth either. A part of him vehemently wished he didn’t know what the truth was. He had no idea how he was supposed to respond to this revelation – no idea what he should think or feel or _do_ when his entire world had been turned upside-down and inside out.

“Check for survivors,” Arthur found himself saying. He didn’t think any of the attackers were actually dead, which was both extraordinary and frightening. To take down two dozen people in one blow without killing them must have taken a tremendous amount of power, skill and control. Even more incredible, though, was the fact that Arthur’s wounds had been healed in the same instant. “Make sure they can do no more harm tonight. I’ll send some of the other knights down to help you.”

“Where are you going to be?”

Arthur’s body seemed to be moving of its own accord. Before he had made a conscious decision about what he was going to do, he found that he had scooped Merlin into his arms. His servant weighed less than he expected. He was thin; frighteningly so, as though he had wasted away from some terrible illness. His skin had a greyish pallor and his head lolled against Arthur’s chest. He was limp, lifeless, barely even breathing.

Arthur stared down at his manservant, unable to reconcile this fragile figure with the powerful sorcerer who had used forbidden magic to save his life.

But he _had_ saved Arthur. Arthur could have been killed this night, but instead it was Merlin who lay dying in his place. His magic was killing him.

No, the Sentinel Device was killing him – and Arthur had the crystal around his neck.

Horrified, Arthur whipped off the crystal and shoved it deep into a pocket, realising that the direct contact against Merlin’s skin would drain his life rapidly and he had little enough left as it was.

“I’m going to get Merlin to Gaius,” he told Leon. There was a small part of him that questioned why he would try to help a sorcerer and a traitor, but he ignored it. He would fix Merlin first and deal with the fall out later.

Leon nodded gravely. “Make haste, sire.”

Arthur didn’t have to be told twice. He whistled for his horse and gently shifted Merlin over his shoulder so he could swing up into the saddle. He urged his horse into a fast trot, trying his utmost to move quickly without jostling Merlin too much for fear of doing him further injury. When they made it to the courtyard Arthur practically vaulted from the saddle and made for the stairs. He took them two at a time and burst into the physician’s chambers.

“Gaius!”

Gaius looked up from his potions and paled when he saw the state of his ward.

“Put him here.”

Arthur strode inside and laid Merlin out on the infirmary bed. Gaius immediately set to work examining him, even as he asked, “What happened?”

The short version? “We were attacked by a mob of angry civilians.”

Gaius’ gazed flicked up from his ward, almost reluctantly. “Are you injured, sire?” If the prince had been hurt Gaius would have had to see to his wounds first, his personal relationship to Merlin notwithstanding.

“No.”

Gaius pursed his lips. “Neither of you have significant physical injuries.”

“I did,” Arthur admitted. He couldn’t believe he was about to say the next part out loud. “But Merlin healed them at the same time that he took out our attackers.”

Gaius froze in the act of measuring Merlin’s pulse. “…sire?”

“He used magic and knocked himself out in the process,” Arthur said flatly. Gaius opened his mouth to protest but Arthur cut across him. “Don’t bother denying it. I saw it with my own two eyes.”

Unconsciously, the old man tightened his grip around Merlin’s wrist. “What will you do to him?”

“I brought him to you, didn’t I?” Arthur said irritably.

“So I could fix him up enough to be conscious for a public execution?”

“So he could live through the night.”

“And if he lives - what then?”

Arthur wished Gaius would stop asking questions that he didn’t have an answer to. “Can you help him or not?”

A shadow of despair entered the old man’s eyes. “The effectiveness of my potions has been steadily decreasing. Without addressing the root cause, I am afraid that there is little I can do now but make him comfortable.”

“He’s dying.”

“Yes, sire. At this rate, he will be dead within a day, two at most. I know I have no right, but rather than subject him to the humiliation and torture of a public execution I would ask that you allow him to die in peace.”

“I am not going to just let him die, Gaius.”

The physician’s expression darkened. “I knew you were many things, Prince Arthur, but I did not think cruel was one of them. After all Merlin has sacrificed for you, the least you could do is let him keep some small shred of dignity in his final hours. I know you probably feel betrayed and angry right now, but you would not be so quick to condemn him if you had even the faintest idea of how much Merlin and his magic have done for you. You would be dead dozens of times over if not for him, and if you think I am just going to stand idly by while you viciously torture and butcher my boy I will have you know that I’d sooner die myself than let you hurt him!”

Strangely enough, despite Merlin’s betrayal Arthur could not stomach the idea of hurting him. “You misunderstand me, Gaius. I would prefer that we find a way to _save_ Merlin rather than send him into Death’s embrace without a fight.”

Gaius’ fury deflated. “What?”

“I’m upset, certainly, and more than a little. Merlin is going to have a lot of explaining to do when he wakes up. But when the mob attacked me for the way my father and I have been treating people with magic, Merlin nearly killed himself to protect me. That speaks volumes about where his loyalties lie. I owe him a great debt and letting him die would be a sorry repayment.”

“Saving him will be no easy feat, sire.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll escort him out of Camelot myself if I have to, take him back to Ealdor-”

“You can’t. The condition he’s in, any attempt to pass through the Sentinel’s barrier would kill him in an instant.”

“But if he remains within the city much longer it will kill him anyway.”

“You have summed up the problem quite succinctly.”

“So why on earth didn’t the idiot leave while he had the strength to? The device has been active for months!”

“He is nothing if not stubborn, sire. He would not leave, no matter how much I begged him to.”

“Why not?”

“He would not leave you, Prince Arthur. He believes protecting you is his sacred duty and he would not abandon his post, not even to save himself.”

Arthur was stunned. He knew what the device did. Looking back, he could recognise the signs that Merlin was suffering under its effects. The fatigue, the dark shadows under his eyes, the way his clothes hung too loosely on his frame, the stumble to his steps, the ghost of pain in his eyes, the tightness of his forced smile. Arthur had dismissed it as a persistent virus, unwilling to even entertain the idea that Merlin could have magic. Now that he knew the truth, he could hardly believe Merlin had managed to keep working.

Even more incomprehensible was _why._ Merlin could have left. He should have left. Why stay? Why endure such agony? Why protect someone who was almost directly responsible for his suffering?

“But I am no friend of magic,” Arthur said. “I have fought against it for most of my life. I have killed his kin. I have worn the very instrument of his torture around my neck.”

“You are not wearing it now,” Gaius observed. “And you have not killed him.”

“How could I? He’s – he’s-” _My servant? My friend?_

Gaius nodded sadly. “That is why he stays, Prince Arthur. You are a good man. He trusts you. He believes that you will someday rule the land in a way that is fair and just and accepting of _all_ people, including those with magic. He hopes for a brighter future.”

Arthur thought about his city. His people. The famine and the death that had plagued them. The injustice of having innocents locked away in the dungeons, awaiting execution.

If he were the man Merlin believed him to be, he wouldn’t just save Merlin. He would save everyone.

It would mean going against his father. But if he did not act soon, there would be no Camelot left for Uther to rule.

Almost like Merlin and his magic, Arthur would be doing the wrong thing for the right reasons.

“Well then. There is no time to waste.”

“Sire?”

“The Sentinel device needs to go. I won’t have Merlin’s death on my conscience.”

“Arthur-”

“I’ve made up my mind, Gaius. And yes, I know there will be consequences for my actions, but since Merlin committed treason to save my life it is only fitting that I do the same in return. Besides, ultimately it is for the good of the people.”

“Thank you, Arthur.”

“Just look after Merlin for me.” He left unspoken that he may not be able to return. There was no way of knowing how his father would react to the destruction of the device. Life would return to Camelot – whether that would come at the cost of her prince remained to be seen.

“Be careful.”

“I will.” He turned to leave.

“Arthur…”

He looked to Gaius. The physician still held Merlin’s wrist, and fear was clearly written all over his face. “Please hurry.”

Arthur nodded grimly and swept from the room.

ooOOoo


	7. Chapter 7

“Guinevere, I need to ask a favour.”

Gwen glanced back at her mistress. Morgana slept fitfully, soaked in sweat and shivering, plagued by nightmares and sickness both. Gwen was reluctant to leave her side, but she obediently stepped out into the corridor and closed the door partway behind her. “What is it, Arthur?”

“I need access to your forge. And…perhaps your help in using the equipment.”

Gwen frowned a little. She wouldn’t deny Arthur anything, but she had to admit that it was an unusual request. “Okay…?”

Arthur looked past her shoulder and checked the corridor behind him before he pulled a crystal from his pocket. “I need to destroy this.”

“Isn’t that-?”

“Yes. And if my father finds out I’ve melted it down there will be hell to pay, so I can’t order you to help me…”

“I’ll do it.” Gwen didn’t need to think twice. Morgana was dying, the people of Camelot were dying, and if this could help in some small part then she was more than willing to take the risk.

“Good. The sooner the better, though I may need to retrieve my cloak first. I’m afraid it is not terribly safe for me to be seen in public at the moment…”

“I heard what happened,” Gwen said. Arthur was usually so well-loved by the people of Camelot; it was a sign of how desperate the situation had become that they would turn on their prince. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“What about Merlin?”

Arthur grimaced. “Not so much.” His fist clenched unconsciously around the crystal, almost as though he wanted to crush it into powder with his bare hands. “But he will be.”

Gwen’s gaze flicked to the crystal and back to Arthur’s face. She thought she understood but she wouldn’t dare to speak her suspicions out loud.

“Let me take it,” she offered. “No one will look twice at me and this way you can focus on bigger problems.”

Arthur’s lips curved into the smile that was reserved only for her. “Thank you, Guinevere.” He placed the crystal in her hand and let his touch linger for a few moments longer than necessary before he reluctantly withdrew. “Be careful.”

“I will.”

ooOOoo

Getting rid of the crystal pendant was the easy part. Strangely, Arthur felt lighter without it around his neck, as if it had been weighing him down without him even realising. But now he had a much bigger task ahead of him.

He donned a hooded cloak and slipped out into the quiet streets of the city. He kept to the shadows, wary of guards and civilians both, keeping a hand on his sword and an eye out for any sign of trouble. He skirted around the scene of the mob attack, knowing that Leon and the other knights would still be in the process of transporting the unconscious attackers to the dungeons. Hopefully once the device was destroyed the anger of the people would fade, but Arthur did not know how he was going to convince Uther to let the prisoners go free. He would not understand that they were only trying to save their families; all he would see were traitors who had tried to murder his son.

But Arthur could only address one problem at a time. He approached the outer walls of the city and, rather than face the guard on the stairs, scaled the wall with the use of a grappling hook. He crept along the parapet but paused a few yards from the first node. There were six knights, not the three that he had expected. With all the civil unrest Uther must have increased the guard.

Arthur drew back to consider his options. He was on his own; he couldn’t cause a diversion and knock them out at the same time. It was possible he could best all six of them but in an all-out fight he couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t hurt them, and too much of a commotion would alert the guards at the next node. If someone rang the warning bell his mission would be over before it began.

Making his decision, Arthur removed his cloak and stepped boldly into the light of the torches.

The knights had half-drawn their swords before they recognised him.

“Sire?”

“It’s me,” Arthur confirmed. “I have come to shut down the node.”

“On the king’s orders?” Sir Endrel asked.

Arthur wouldn’t lie to them. “No. But the device is harming Camelot and I intend to see it destroyed.”

He could read the shock on their faces. He waited for someone to challenge him, but though they still grasped their weapons none drew their swords on him.

“I will fight you if I must,” he said. “But I would rather I didn’t have to. I am doing this for the good of our city and her people. You have seen how they suffer. I would put an end to it.”

The knights hesitated.

“My wife is pregnant,” Endrel said finally. “She has become gravely ill since this device was activated and the midwife says that we are almost certain to lose the baby. I want my child to have a chance at life. If you want to destroy the device, Prince Arthur, I will not stand in your way.”

“My grandmother died last week,” Sir Bredan said. “She should have had many years ahead of her. I will not fight you, sire.”

“The King ordered me to arrest a twelve-year-old boy yesterday,” Sir Dwain said. “I will not oppose you.”

“The people of this city are starving,” Sir Calenor said. “If you think you can help them, I will not hinder your efforts.”

“Nor I,” Sir Gregen said.

“Nor I,” Sir Kalon echoed.

“When my father learns of this there will be a steep price to pay,” Arthur warned.

“Understood, sire,” Endrel said.

“We have made our choice,” Sir Kalon assured him.

Arthur nodded. They parted for him and offered no objection as he flipped the level that would power down the node. It stopped humming and Arthur found that he could think more clearly, as though the sound had been an irritation in the back of his mind without him being consciously aware of it. For good measure he pulled the device apart and retrieved the crystal. With a burst of strength, he cast it violently to the ground and it shattered into a thousand pieces.

“One down,” Arthur said. He could only hope that the others would be as easy.

Sirs Calenor and Brendan found two large stones and set about grinding the crystal fragments into dust, while the other four knights accompanied Arthur to the next node.

“What is this?” Sir Yrig demanded.

Before Arthur could respond, Endrel had drawn his sword and stepped in front of him. “Stand down, Yrig. The prince has urgent business here and you would do well not to hinder him.”

“Sire?”

“We are shutting down the device,” Arthur explained, “before this entire city crumbles to ruin.”

“But the Sentinel is all that protects our city from magic.”

Arthur thought about Merlin, and the magic that he had used to save his life. “Magic is not the problem right now. Camelot was strong and flourishing before the device was activated; now look at it.”

“But King Uther…”

Arthur knew he was asking a lot. These men had sworn fealty to their king and to go against him in such a blatant manner was an act of treason. “These actions are my own. I cannot order you to abandon your post, but I would not be doing this if I did not believe that it was the best thing for the kingdom.”

Yrig seemed unsure, but his sword dipped towards the ground.

"If it makes it easier for you, we can knock you out,” Endrel offered. “You can claim to have no memory of your attackers.”

“You say… this is for the good of Camelot?”

“Yes.”

Yrig stepped aside and his fellow guardsmen did likewise. “Do what you must, sire.”

“Thank you, Sir Yrig.”

Arthur destroyed the crystal as he had the last.

By the time he reached the fifth node he had gained quite a following. It was reassuring to know that he had the trust of his knights still, even after everything that had happened. So many soldiers marching along the walls together gained the attention of the townsfolk; they started out peering through windows and then gathering in the streets to watch them. When Arthur dropped the fifth crystal off the edge of the wall the crowd of onlookers cheered as it shattered against the cobblestones.

“ _Ar-thur! Ar-thur! Ar-thur!”_

The restoration of the people’s faith in him would have been heartening, if not for the fact that Arthur knew that word would undoubtedly get back to the king.

It was with a huge crowd at his back that Arthur marched on the citadel. He had meant for this to be an undercover operation but there was no chance for secrecy now.

He reached the courtyard to find that a wall of armed soldiers barred his way.

Uther stood at the top of the steps, sword drawn, eyes hard, fury etched into his features.

“ _What have you done?”_

ooOOoo


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin groaned. Every inch of his skin felt raw and flayed, every muscle ached, his head throbbed sickeningly and every shallow breath spiked a sharp pain through his chest.

But he was awake. He rather wished he wasn't. He hadn’t expected to be. He had been sure that the powerful burst of magic he had used to save Arthur would be the death of him, and to be honest he had been ready, almost eager, for an end to the pain. He had tried to stay strong but he had reached the limits of his endurance; he couldn’t live like this any longer.

Besides, Arthur knew about his magic now. If the Sentinel device didn’t kill him, Arthur would. Saving Arthur’s life had been his final act. He didn’t mind so much. He could die knowing that he had done everything he could to fulfil his destiny. He could only hope that Arthur would continue to be safe after he was gone, and that somehow Camelot would be okay.

_“If you do not act… you will surely die. And so will every person and creature in Camelot.”_

The dragon’s words echoed in his mind and Merlin groaned again. He didn’t want this responsibility anymore. He was too tired to bear this burden.

He lay there weakly, too drained to move, but as the minutes passed he could have sworn that a small measure of his strength returned to him.

He opened his eyes and immediately winced at the light. The pounding in his head intensified and he felt a wave of nausea that had him curling around his stomach in a vain attempt to prevent the retching that he knew from experience would only make the pain worse.

But gradually the pain receded.

Shading his eyes, he risked opening them again and discovered that he was lying in his own bed. A candle flickered on his nightstand.

He frowned, unable to remember how he got here. By all rights, he should by lying in a gutter in the lower town, or rotting in one of the dungeon cells.

He struggled to sit upright, and even that small movement left him feeling like he had run a league. He waited for the dizziness to pass and then forced himself to his feet. He staggered and flung out a hand to catch himself, knocking the candle off his nightstand. He watched it fall in slow motion, the flames spilling towards the edge of his blanket. If the fire caught his entire room would be ablaze in moments.

Realising that he had no choice, Merlin sent out a tiny burst of magic to snuff the flame. He braced for the agony that was sure to assault him.

The candle fell harmlessly to the floor and rolled away.

Merlin felt nothing.

He stared at the candle in stunned amazement. The flame was gone. He _had_ used magic, but he had not been punished for it. He could not understand why. Lately, even the barest hint of magic had been enough to cripple him.

But something was different.

He stumbled down the steps into Gaius’ chambers.

“Merlin!” Gaius rushed towards him, taking his arm before he could fall over. “What are you doing out of bed? How is it that you are even conscious? I thought you were on Death’s door! How are you feeling, are you alright?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin rasped. “What’s going on?”

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“The evening patrol. The people turned on Arthur… I used my magic to protect him. Gaius, he saw me. Arthur knows about my magic.”

“Yes,” Gaius said. “He told me. He brought you back here in the hope that I could help you, but there was nothing I could do.”

“He wanted you to – what? But, I thought-”

“Yes. So did I. But when Arthur realised what the device was doing to you – what remaining loyal to him had cost you – he decided that the device needed to be destroyed.”

“ _What_?”

“He’s out there right now. And the fact that you are awake would seem to indicate that he has had some success.”

“But why would he – I don’t understand. I have magic.”

“And you used it to save his life. He is indebted to you.”

Merlin was almost disappointed. “Is that all it is?”

"I do not know. You will have to ask him yourself.”

“What of the King? Surely Uther will not stand for this. If he knew I had magic-”

“I do not believe that Arthur would tell him.”

“But if Arthur destroys the Sentinel device, Uther will be furious.”

“Arthur seemed to think it was worth the risk.”

Merlin was stunned. For Arthur to act so openly against his father, on this issue of _magic_ of all things… “I can’t believe he would do this for me.”

"He cares a great deal for you, Merlin.”

“But I’ve lied to him since the day we met. He should be angry with me. He should have me beheaded, or imprisoned, or banished- he should at least sack me! He shouldn’t risk everything to save my life; it doesn’t make any sense.”

“I do not think he could bear to watch you die.”

Merlin swallowed. “That works both ways. If Uther has him executed for treason I will never forgive myself.”

As if on cue, they heard a commotion outside. Forgetting that he had only just stepped back from the edge of oblivion and had yet to regain his strength, Merlin rushed to the window and promptly lost his balance. He nearly crumpled but grasped the windowsill for support and looked out across the city. He saw the light of dozens of torches. People were marching towards the citadel; soldiers and civilians both. Arthur was leading them.

“What is he doing?” Merlin exclaimed. “It looks like he’s staging a full-scale rebellion. The King will respond in force – Arthur’s going to get himself killed!”

“Merlin-”

But Merlin was already running.

ooOOoo

Arthur straightened his back and raised his chin. He knew that what he had done could be considered a crime against the crown and the kingdom, but he firmly believed that shutting down the device was the right thing to do. He would face his father’s wrath, and whatever consequences he brought to bear.

Uther’s question still rang in the courtyard. He must have received reports from the city guards, but he still expected Arthur to answer him. He was not going to like what Arthur had to say.

“I have destroyed the nodes on the city walls, Father.”

Uther’s expression twisted, and a snarl rose on his lips. “You are no son of mine.”

Arthur flinched, but held his ground. He made no move towards his own weapon, even as the sharpened edge of Uther’s sword glinted in the moonlight.

“I swore an oath to protect the kingdom and its people.”

“You have betrayed that oath!”

“No, sire. Our land was dying. Our _people_ were dying. I did what I had to.”

“Camelot was infested with magic. The Sentinel device was the only defence we had against this pestilence. Your actions have compromised the security of this city and could allow the scourge to return!”

“Maybe it should.”

A shocked silence fell upon the courtyard.

When Uther spoke, his voice was low and deadly. “You would align yourself with magic? With the foul creatures and evil sorcerers who have tried time and again to destroy this kingdom?”

Arthur thought about Merlin. He thought about the way that his servant had used magic to save his life, and in doing so had doomed his own. Merlin was not evil.

“My allegiance is to the good people of Camelot. I cannot abide their suffering. The device was killing them.”

“It was killing magic!”

“The death of magic would mean the death of us all. Look around, sire. The city is falling to wreck and ruin.”

“That is because a curse lies upon us! Morgana is dying, and her one hope was for the sorcerer responsible to be captured and killed. The device was our only means of identifying the culprit. You have condemned her to death.”

Arthur had a sudden start of realisation. Morgana had been ill since the device was activated. Uther believed her sickness to be a spell, but the truth had to be that she, too, had magic. “You have done that yourself!” He held back from blurting out her secret, not wishing her to be sentenced to the chopping block like so many other innocents. “Given time, the device would have killed everyone in the kingdom. I have done what I must.”

Uther’s face grew dark. “And now I shall do what I must. You have committed treason. There is but one judgement I can pass." He raised a hand.

The wall of soldiers drew their swords.

In response, the crowd of people following Arthur raised weapons of their own. Arthur realised that they were willing to fight for him. They were willing to die for him.

But this wasn’t right. He meant to save Camelot, not to stage a coup d’état against his own father.

“Father, please. If you shut down the central hub, you will see the truth. The land will be restored. Our crops will regrow. The ill will recover. Camelot will be pulled back from the brink of destruction. Father, you must listen to me.”

But Uther was beyond reason. “Guards, seize this traitor. Anyone who tries to aid him will share his fate.”

As one, the soldiers stepped forward.

Arthur could fight them. He was the best swordsman in the land, and with the weight of the people behind him he may even succeed in breaking through the line. But then what? He could not kill his father.

He had already destroyed the nodes. The radius of the device would be severely reduced now. It might remain operational within the castle itself, but limiting its range might have already been enough to save the kingdom from annihilation.

If he began this battle, many people would die. He could not be responsible for starting a war within Camelot’s own borders.

Slowly, deliberately, Arthur unbuckled his sword belt and laid his weapon on the ground. He raised his hands and looked his father in the eyes. “I surrender myself to your mercy, sire.”

Something flickered in Uther’s expression. Grief, perhaps, or remorse. But no one was exempt from the law, not even his son. Arthur knew the King would not renege on his sentence. He was prepared to die, knowing that Camelot would live.

“Take him into custody,” Uther ordered. “He will be executed at dawn.”

Cries of outrage came from the townspeople but Arthur held up a hand to stop them. He made no effort to resist as the King’s guards surrounded him. He remained still as they grabbed his arms and secured them behind his back with a length of rope, even though it was an indignity he need not have suffered. He had every intention of going quietly.

“NO!”

The cry came from the direction of the castle. All eyes turned to look as Merlin – _Merlin! –_ burst through the doors at breakneck speed and almost tumbled down the steps. He caught himself just in time, but looked liable to collapse at any moment. He was gasping, drenched in sweat, trembling with exhaustion, eyes wild. “You can’t do this!”

Uther was not amused by the interference. “Guards, seize Arthur’s manservant as well.”

“No.” Merlin stretched out an unsteady hand towards the King. “No, I won’t let you.”

Under any other circumstances, it might have been funny; the idea that a scrawny servant could hope to triumph against half of an army. But Merlin had magic. Arthur didn’t know the extent of his powers, but he couldn’t let Merlin attempt to harm his father. If he succeeded, magic would have killed the King and the Knights of Camelot would not rest until every last trace of it was purged from the kingdom. If he failed, he would be burned at the stake.

“Father, please, my actions were my own. My servant had nothing to do with it.”

Uther did not appear convinced.

“ _Mer_ lin, you idiot, go back inside,” Arthur stressed, hoping to get him out of harm’s way. He had suffered enough already. “This does not concern you.”

“No, Arthur-”

“Anyone in league with the traitor is as guilty as he is. Guards-”

“No! Sire, you don’t understand. What Arthur did, it was only because I-”

Arthur pinned Merlin with a fierce stare, hoping to communicate without words that he was not, under any circumstances, to reveal his magic in front of the King. If Merlin got himself killed now, all of this would have been for nothing.

Oblivious, Merlin ploughed recklessly ahead. “It was only because I uncovered the truth about the merchant Fendrel.”

Arthur blinked. That was not what he had been expecting.

“What are you talking about?” Uther demanded.

Merlin took a deep breath. “He was plotting with your enemies to lay waste to the kingdom. The device is not a shield at all, but a weapon. It has been poisoning the land and the people from the moment it was turned on.”

“Lies.”

“Once everyone in the kingdom was dead, there would have been nothing stopping your enemies from marching across the borders to claim this land as their own.”

“Have you any evidence to back up this ridiculous claim?”

Slowly, Merlin shook his head. “Merchant Fendrel is long gone.”

Arthur felt disappointment settle in his gut. It had been a last-ditch effort to salvage this situation. A surprisingly cunning plan, coming from Merlin, but it had failed.

“However,” Merlin continued, “I can prove to you that Arthur’s actions were correct. He thwarted this plot, and he has saved us all.”

Uther scoffed. “You cannot expect me to believe you.”

Merlin shrugged. “You don’t have to take my word for it.” He glanced back towards the castle.

A thin figure, pale and unsteady on her feet but determinedly walking on her own, began to descend the staircase. Gwen hovered beside her, anxious in case she should fall, but the very fact that she was moving under her own power was a miracle on its own.

“Morgana?” The word was a breathless exhalation. Uther was staring at his ward in stunned disbelief.

A tired smile graced her lips. “Yes, my lord.”

Uther moved towards her and the soldiers parted for him. He swept her into his arms. “Morgana! But – how-? I thought…”

“I know. I thought the same. With every day that passed my illness grew worse, and I feared that I would soon lose the strength to keep breathing. I doubt I would have made it through the night. But then something changed. I could feel it. A weight was lifted from me, and I began to feel better. Five times this happened, until finally I found I was strong enough to stand. I was just coming to find you, when Merlin bumped into me in the corridor and told me you were out here.”

She looked out over the crowd, a slight frown creasing her forehead. “What happened? What’s going on?”

It was not Merlin’s place to speak, but he spoke anyway. “Arthur saved your life. He destroyed the nodes of the Sentinel device. If the central hub is turned off, you will recover completely.”

Morgana looked at once relieved and fearful. She knew what the device was supposed to identify those with magic.

“He has saved all of us!” cried one of the townspeople. Others called out their agreement until the courtyard was filled with cries of “Arthur!”

“SILENCE!” Uther bellowed.

The din was extinguished, but Arthur could tell that the moment balanced on a knife’s edge.

Uther looked from Morgana, to Merlin, to the people, and finally to Arthur.

He pulled the crystal pendant from around his neck.

Arthur sucked in a sharp breath. If Uther held the crystal to Morgana’s skin and she screamed, her magic would be revealed. The perceived betrayal would enrage the King further, and if that happened Arthur knew that none of them would make it out of this alive.

The air was thick with tension as everyone waited to see what the King would do.

Arthur met Merlin’s gaze. Whatever happened, he wanted his servant – no, his _friend_ – to know that he was forgiven for his secrecy, and that Arthur did not regret his actions.

Merlin’s eyes burned with emotion. Arthur could tell he wanted to call upon his magic to end the danger to Arthur’s life, fiercely protective even after everything he had been through on Arthur’s behalf. But he dipped his head slightly, a silent acknowledgement of everything that Arthur didn’t have the time to say.

Together, they waited.

Uther held up the crystal, letting the light from the torches reflect off its surface.

“There have always been those who would seek to destroy this kingdom,” he said.

Then he released the chain from his fingers.

The crystal struck the stairs and shattered.

“Thank you, Arthur, for seeing this threat for what it was when I was blinded to it, and taking the action necessary to preserve Camelot. You have upheld your oath, and we are indebted to you.” He bowed his head.

The guards released him as though they had been burned. They swiftly dropped to their knees, and the effect spread like a tidal wave until everyone in the courtyard was bowing before him.

Arthur swallowed, all too aware of how close they had come to disaster. He did not want to push his luck, but this wasn’t over yet. “There is one more thing we must do, Father.”

“Of course.” Uther held out a hand to him. “We shall destroy it together.”

Arthur followed his father.

Merlin fell into step behind him, as he ever had.

ooOOoo


	9. Chapter 9

“So, I guess we should talk,” Arthur said.

He sat with Merlin on the steps of the palace, watching as the city settled back into the normal rhythm of life. The atmosphere was peaceful. Not quite happy, not yet – the land and the people were still recovering. Prisoners had been released and those who had fled the city were gradually filtering back in, but nothing could be done to restore the lives lost. Many were grieving for loved ones, and some still harboured resentment towards Uther for what had happened. For the most part, though, people considered the device to have been an attack from unknown enemies and were willing to accept the King’s attempts at reparations.

The issue of magic remained unresolved. The laws had not changed, but the attitudes of the people had. No one was talking about it, of course, not wishing to arose the King’s ire after everything that had happened. But Arthur knew that there were those in the city who now knew that they had the potential for magic. They were engulfed by their families, hidden and protected in an illusion of normalcy. They probably wouldn’t act upon their abilities, not while Uther reigned. But there were murmurs in the streets about the importance of magic in their world, and whispers about changing times.

Arthur wasn’t ready to think about the future. When he became King, he knew that there would be decisions to be made.

For now, he was more concerned about Merlin.

“I guess we should,” Merlin agreed. He was fiddling with the frayed hem of his neckerchief, not making eye contact with Arthur.

“You have magic,” Arthur said. He kept his voice pitched low, but it was hardly a well-kept secret. The civilians who had attacked them that fateful night had experienced Merlin’s magic firsthand. Since all the prisoners had been released, Arthur had no doubt that word would have spread throughout the lower town. The people did not seem inclined to betray him, though. They had seen him intervene on Arthur’s behalf, and in doing so he had saved Camelot from tearing itself apart. He had earned their respect, and their gratitude.

“Yes,” Merlin said finally. “I do.”

Arthur waited, but no other information was forthcoming. “Care to elaborate?”

Merlin shrugged a little. “What do you want me to say?”

Good question. “I don’t know. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

Merlin glanced sideways at him. “It’s a long story.”

“We have time.”

“You’re going to hear a lot of things you won’t like. And a lot more things that could get me executed several hundred times over.”

Arthur grimaced. He hated the idea that Merlin had been living under constant threat of being beheaded or burned at the stake. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

Despite his reassurance, Merlin still seemed reluctant to speak.

“Did I ever thank you for saving my life?”

Merlin scuffed his shoe against the stone steps. “I was just doing my duty.”

“No, Merlin. You went above and beyond. I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. And I suspect this was not an isolated incident.”

A small smile twitched at the corners of Merlin’s mouth. “Well, you do have a knack for getting into trouble, sire.”

“And here I was thinking that it was just good fortune that I always seemed to make it out alive. But it was you, wasn’t it? Every time. You pulled me out of the way of that dagger, and you haven’t stopped saving me since.”

“Someone has to,” Merlin mumbled. The tips of his ears were red.

“I’m grateful,” Arthur said. “And I’d like to hear the stories, if you’re willing to tell me. But if you’re not ready, I can wait.”

Merlin blinked up at him. “Really?”

“I know you have magic, and that you use it to help people. That’s good enough for me.” In truth, Arthur was bursting with curiosity. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to see Merlin in action. He wanted to find out exactly what Merlin could do, and he wanted to hear about every heroic act that Merlin had committed since arriving in Camelot. There were so many strange and unexplained things that had happened – from felled griffins and floating balls of mystical blue light to windstorms and miraculous recoveries from fatal wounds. He suspected that Merlin knew far more about them than he had ever let on, and he wanted to be told every last detail.

But Merlin had lived in fear and secrecy for a long time. Arthur understood his reticence.

“Thank you,” Merlin said. “Not just for- I mean, I always hoped, but I could never be sure how you would react when you found out. Sometimes I worried that you would hate me, or send me away or – or kill me on the spot.”

Honestly, Arthur didn’t know how he would have reacted if Merlin had told him the truth a year ago, or a month ago, or even a week ago. Hatred and mistrust of magic had been drilled into him from a young age, and the habits of a lifetime were hard to break.

“I don’t hate you,” he said.

Merlin chuckled. “Thanks. I don’t hate you either.”

Concerned that they were edging into dangerously sappy territory, Arthur punched him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” Merlin protested. “What was that for?”

Arthur shrugged. “Just a little rough-housing between friends.”

Shining blue eyes stared at him. “Is that what we are?”

“There are no more lies between us,” Arthur said. “So yeah. I think we could be. If you wanted.”

Merlin’s beam could have outshone the sun. “I’d like that.”

Arthur nudged his ribs. “So that means you can tell me.”

Merlin considered him for a moment. “I was born with magic,” he said at last. “My mother said I was levitating objects with my mind before I could talk.”

Arthur had to make a joke to cover his amazement. “And then you started talking and never stopped.”

Merlin swatted him. “I can stop right now if you like.”

“No, no! Go on.”

Merlin glanced around them before he relaxed and settled more comfortably on the step. “My mother told me that I was special, and I wanted to believe her. But she also said I had to keep my magic a secret. When my friend Will found out about me, my mother sent me away and I thought – I thought that I was a freak. A monster. The magic was so much a part of me that I couldn’t imagine being without it, but all it had ever done was get me into trouble. I thought I would never find a use for it. Worse, I thought that having magic meant that I would always be an outsider. And then I came here, and I met you.”

“You said you weren’t sure yet, if you had found a place where you fit in,” Arthur remembered.

Merlin bumped a knobbly knee into his, and offered a shy smile. “I’m sure now.”

Arthur was glad to hear it, but something didn’t quite sit right with him. “You have a lot of power, don’t you?”

Merlin gave an odd little half shrug, which Arthur interpreted as a yes.

“But you’re content to be a servant to a Prince? And a prattish one at that?”

Merlin’s lips quirked. “You’re not so bad.”

“You clean my socks and mop my floors and muck out my stables, when you could probably rule the kingdom if you wanted to.”

“I don’t want to,” Merlin said. “It is your destiny to be the greatest King Camelot has ever known, not mine.”

“I’m just a person. Ordinary. Nothing special. If anyone should have a destiny, it’s you.”

“You’re more important than you know. You have tremendous potential, Arthur. It is my destiny to help you realise it.”

“So you’re just going to keep to the shadows, keep saving the day without getting any credit for it, keep serving as though you are somehow less than me?”

“I’m happy to be your servant, Arthur. Until the day I die.”

Merlin had said those words before, and his sincerity rang through every syllable.

But while Merlin might be okay with waiting on Arthur from now until death parted them, Arthur was not okay with the idea of Merlin labouring as a simple manservant when he was so much more. “That’s not going to happen,” he said firmly.

Hurt flashed across Merlin’s features. “You’re firing me?”

“No, of course not, Merlin, don’t be an idiot. But someday, when I’m King, you will be getting a promotion.”

Merlin pursed his lips. “Does it come with a pay rise?”

“Probably.” Arthur hadn’t thought it all the way through yet, but he was envisioning some sort of new position in the court.

Merlin’s trademark grin made a comeback. “I look forward to it.”

“A lot of things are going to change.”

Merlin nodded sagely, looking altogether too wise for the goofball who usually tripped and stumbled his way through basic chores. “But one thing never will,” he promised.

“What’s that?”

“I’m going to be by your side, like I always am.”

The declaration felt like a solemn oath, and the words lingered in the air, tingling with something that almost felt like magic. Arthur could have made a quip to lighten the moment, but instead he clasped Merlin’s arm and said seriously, “Thank you, my friend. For everything.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Merlin returned.

“I haven’t done anything.”

“You accepted me for who I am. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Arthur coughed. Open displays of affection really were not his forte, but Merlin had been through the wringer recently, so he decided to allow it, just this once. “Who you are is amazing,” he admitted. “I’m lucky to have you.”

From the look of pure happiness that came over Merlin’s face, Arthur rather suspected that he was never going to stop smiling. But that was okay. Arthur didn’t want him to.

ooOOoo

The End


End file.
